The Start, how do I start? How about the station?
Eyes uncontrollably dashing side to side searching for her. A few hundred, how could I be sure she is the one? I dont know but I just knew.
Delicate flutter of eyelashes. Should be compulsory to carry a licence for owning a smile so captivating. So hypnotising, forces pull at my bones until something hit me.
I am sinking, no control over the helm. Do I abandon ship? Losing breathe, drowning in pure beauty. Each movement. Sound. Feature.
Looking up, a face looks down. My body heavy still damp due to her heavy showers of wonder. But I see her. breathing returns, heart warming. I will never in all my life understand the natural beauty in everything she is. But I understand that I had fallen. Fallen overboard into an ocean of feelings, so wide they are endless. Fallen into an ocean of feelings so deep, they never run dry.
Can the rumours be true?
Love at first sight.
From the start.
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
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